


seollal

by timshl



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: F/F, Fluff, because homophobia isn’t any fun amirite, handwavey parallel universe where same-sex marriage is legal in korea, married moonsun, moonsun as mums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timshl/pseuds/timshl
Summary: Lunar New Year with the Kims and Moons.
Relationships: Kim Yongsun | Solar/Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul
Comments: 14
Kudos: 78





	seollal

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not usually much for all the chinese new year visiting and festivities, but I found myself getting unexpectedly sentimental at reunion dinner the other day…and thus this fic was born!
> 
> Heads-up, pretty much nothing happens in this meandering mess except pure, unadulterated domesticity, so: read at your own risk. Please forgive any and all inaccuracies, and enjoy~

_1\. the kim-moon family (new year's day)_

“Aera, sweetheart, look at mama!” 

“Look here, darling, at the camera—look at mama—sit still—where are you going—”

“Haneul, can you hold onto your little sister—Yongki-ah, not now, aigoo…” 

“She’s wet, mama! She made my hanbok wet!” 

“It’s okay, Haneul, just stay still for a little bit.”

“Aera, _no_ , don’t go there—”

“But mama...look! It’s wet!” 

The camera shutter goes off a few times, and Byulyi starts laughing as Yongsun hastily dives forward to scoop Aera into her arms before she crawls off the sofa. “Yongki!” Yongsun calls in exasperation, but their four year old jindo-balbari mix has bounded across the sofa, knocked all the carefully arranged cushions aside, and disappeared off somewhere into the kitchen. 

“We’re never going to get a good shot of the two of them, are we?” Byulyi asks ruefully, and then, “Yes, dear, what’s wrong?” 

Haneul has slipped off the sofa and run over to her, holding out the hem of his _jeogori_ in tiny clenched fists. A miniature _gat_ sits askew on his head. “Mama, Yongki made my hanbok wet! Her paws are wet!” 

Byulyi kneels down so that she’s eye-level with her son. His little brow is furrowed in worry, and he looks close to tears. “Let mama see—it’s only a little bit wet, dear, don’t worry, it will dry soon.” 

“It’s just water, Haneul, it’s okay,” Yongsun adds. 

Haneul looks down at the dark splotches on his hanbok doubtfully. “But it’s dirty now,” he mumbles sadly. 

“Aw, don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll go dry it with the hairdryer, how about that?” 

“Byul-ah, don’t, he’s got to learn to let things go—”

“It’s okay, it’ll only take a minute.”

“You spoil him,” Yongsun reproaches, but watches fondly as Byulyi takes Haneul’s hand in hers and walks him towards the bedroom. “Fix his hat!” she adds, “it’s falling off.” 

Aera gurgles suddenly, pointing after her brother with wide eyes. “Oppa!” she cries energetically. “Oppa! Oppa!”

“Mama’s going to help oppa get his hanbok nice and dry, shall we go and help them?” 

“Mama!” Aera replies decisively, grabbing onto the strap of Yongsun’s dress and burying her face into her neck before bursting into giggles. Aera, their ever-cheerful, ever-curious one-year-old is miles away from her shy and sensitive older brother; Byulyi loves telling everyone who’s willing to listen how much Aera reminds her of Yongsun. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” 

Yongki chooses that moment to burst into the living room, barking loudly, at the same time that the whirr of the hairdryer goes off in the bedroom. 

“Kiki! Kiki!” Aera shrieks, waving her arms excitedly. 

“Shush, Yongki, what is it? Yongki, quiet! No barking!”

“Kiki!” 

“Okay, okay, down you go—Yongki, _shush_.” 

Aera toddles unsteadily but determinedly towards Yongki, who yaps happily and wags her tail vigorously, as eager to play as she was when she was a puppy. Yongsun keeps one eye on them as she straightens the cushions on the sofa—Yongki is twice the size of Aera and doesn’t know her own strength. 

An anxious glance to the living room clock informs her that they ought to be leaving soon, if they want to avoid the worst of the jam on the road to Bucheon. 

She watches fondly as her daughter claps her hands and squeals in delight as Yongki darts almost-manically from side to side, panting excitedly as her claws clack loudly on the floor. Aera is bouncing up and down so vigorously that the bright red skirt of her hanbok billows in time with her movements. She reaches out clumsily, ostensibly to pet Yongki’s nose, but Yongki, startled by the sudden movement, lets out a sharp bark and rears up instinctively, causing Aera to flinch back, fall onto her butt, and burst into wails. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Yongsun sighs, picking up her loudly crying daughter, whose face is now all red and screwed up. “You got a little fright, huh? But you’re okay, aren’t you, you little drama queen?” 

The whirring of the hairdryer stops. “Everything alright out there?” Byulyi calls out from the bedroom. 

“We’re good!” 

“Okay!” The whirring resumes. 

Yongsun rocks her daughter up and down in her arms and drops noisy smooches onto her teeny cushiony cheek until her tears subside and she’s blinking owlishly. “There we go, that wasn’t so scary, was it?” 

Yongki is seated quietly at Yongsun’s feet, whining guiltily as she raises a paw to rest on her knee. Yongsun reaches down with her free hand and gently scratches the back of Yongki’s neck to let her know that she’s not in trouble. “Be careful with Aera, okay? She’s still a baby.” Then, “Ah, Yongki, why is your fur all damp, have you been rolling about in the shower again?” 

A second glance to the clock—“Byul-ah, we have to go soon!” 

“We’re coming!” 

Byulyi and Haneul emerge from the bedroom, Haneul looking decidedly happier now that the dark purple fabric of his hanbok is pristine again. 

“Go show mama how handsome you look!” Byulyi encourages, and Haneul shuffles forward with a toothy grin and does a little twirl in front of Yongsun. 

“Oh my goodness, what a handsome boy,” Yongsun coos, and Haneul ducks his head shyly and lunges forward to hug and press his face into her thigh, knocking the _gat_ askew again. She reaches down to stroke his cheek, and hears the sound of the camera shutter going off. She looks up to see Byulyi lowering her camera, and shakes her head in fond exasperation. “Let’s _go_ already.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Byulyi replies with a mock salute, and leans in to give her a peck on the cheek before reaching out for Aera. “I’ll take this little monster; you can handle the bags.” 

_2\. reunion_

After a chaotic ten minutes of getting both children settled and buckled into their car seats—Aera starts crying halfway through for her stuffed rabbit (“But she hardly even hugs it,” Byulyi says in bewilderment once they’ve finally interpreted her babbling), so Yongsun has to go back upstairs to retrieve it, upon which Haneul very very quietly requests for his stuffed elephant (it takes another considerable while to coax him to speak loud enough to understand what he wants), which necessitates Yongsun making a second trip back up—they’re finally on the road, Yongki curled up obediently between the children, and Byulyi’s Melon playlist of children’s songs playing through the car speakers. 

“Fuck,” Yongsun hisses, mere moments after they’ve hit the expressway. “I mean,” she corrects herself hastily, because the children are still fully awake in the backseat, “oh no!” 

“What’s wrong?” Byulyi asks, eyes not leaving the road as she smoothly filters into the outer lane—fortunately, the road isn’t that packed yet with families heading out of the capital to return to their hometowns for the long weekend, so they should be able to make it to Byulyi’s parents’ place in good time for lunch. 

“I forgot to bring the rice syrup!”

“Why do we need rice syrup?”

“Your mother ran out; she asked me to bring some over because all the shops near her place are closed. Ugh, she’s going to kill me.”

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it.”

“Everything is a big deal to your mum, when it comes to me,” Yongsun mutters darkly, before she can stop herself. 

Byulyi doesn’t deign that with a reply, but Yongsun can’t not notice the way her jaw stiffens slightly. 

“I’m sorry. Forget I said that.” When Byulyi still doesn’t reply, “Byul-ah, I’m sorry. Don’t get mad?” 

There’s another brief pause. “There’s a Lotte Mart just off the expressway, it should probably still be open. It’ll be good to stop by and let the kids stretch their legs a little.” 

“Sounds like a plan. Love you,” she adds, because it can’t hurt. 

The corner of Byulyi’s mouth tugs up infinitesimally. She shakes her head and heaves an exaggerated sigh. “Love you too.” 

Thankfully, the Lotte Mart they make a pit stop at—they have to deposit a disgruntled Yongki in one of the store’s pet lockers before entering—is open and well-stocked in rice syrup. Haneul and Aera are awestruck by the towering shelves and endless aisles of the warehouse supermarket, so they spend some time aimlessly wandering past what might be the world’s most extensive selection of snacks, countless bottles and tubs of condiments, and a seemingly never-ending wall of instant ramyeon. 

Byulyi places Haneul on her shoulders so he can reach for a mini carton of chocolate Chex stacked high on a shelf, but he refuses to get down afterwards, so Yongsun makes Byulyi take off her cap so he can hold onto her hair for better support. They get a box of animal crackers for Aera, Byulyi decides on a multi-pack of pepero, and Yongsun picks out three pints of Baskin Robbins ice cream (ice lemona, black sorbet, and her all-time favourite: you are so dalgona). It’s alright to indulge in some sweet treats on new year’s day, she reasons. 

The cashier, a jolly-faced ahjumma with brightly dyed red curls, can’t stop cooing over Haneul and Aera in their hanboks, and they leave the store amid back and forth “happy new year!”s. It’s only when they’ve made it back to the car and Aera suddenly demands for “Kiki” that they realise they’ve forgotten Yongki, whom Yongsun guiltily rushes back for. 

Yongki whines balefully, refuses to look her in the eye, and sulkily parks herself right in front of the store entrance, as if she knows she was almost left behind, and Yongsun has to pepper her with kisses and neck scratches before she’s willing to head back to the car. 

“Why aren’t you wearing that new dress you bought?” Byulyi asks when they’re waiting for the life to come at Byulyi’s parents’ apartment building, laden with gifts for Byulyi’s parents, a diaper bag full of the childrens’ things, and their Lotte Mart loot. “It was pretty.”

Yongsun raises an eyebrow. “The one with the plunge neckline? Are you sure? I think your aunts and uncles would have heart attacks if they saw me in that.” 

“Ah...you’ve got a point.”

Byulyi’s mother greets them at the door with a huge beam, arms already held out for her grandchildren. A boisterous chorus of “happy new year!” and “say hello to halmeoni and harabeoji!'' ensues, accompanied by a flurry of movement as Seulgi and Byulyi’s father appear to help with their bags. The chaos is only amplified when Janggu and the corgis materialise in the narrow hallway, and all five dogs descend into frenzied barking. 

Haneul starts to get agitated from all the commotion, so Byulyi’s mother wisely whisks the children away into the living room while Seulgi helps Yongsun to set aside the boxes of ginseng, honey and spam they brought from home in the kitchen, and the racket finally subsides once Byulyi and her father manage to calm the dogs down and get them away from the door. 

“Byulyi, really,” her mother is saying with an air of long-suffering resignation when Yongsun emerges from the kitchen, “would it kill you to take off your cap for once and put on something other than a hoodie…and what are all these strange straps on your pants? What are they for? Are there pockets in there?” 

“Stop picking on her, eomma, let unnie wear what she wants!” That’s Yesol, appearing from her room with a good-natured grin. “Hi unnie, hi Yongsun-unnie, hi Yongki, hi Haneul and Aera—oh my god, they look _adorable_ in their hanboks—happy new year!” 

“Happy new year, Yesol! Haneul, go and give your aunt a hug.” 

“This is fashion, eomma, how many times do I have to tell you,” Byulyi tells her mother easily, walking over to greet her properly with a kiss on the cheek. 

Byulyi’s cousins arrive shortly with their families, after which follows the ritual of _sebae_ , during which Byulyi goes a bit overboard with her camera (she excitedly shows Yongsun a lovely shot of the kids with their grandparents afterwards, looking so proud of herself that Yongsun feels her heart melt a little), and then everyone is settling down in front of any available raised level surface in the living room to enjoy the tteokguk jointly prepared by Seulgi and her mother. 

The house is soon filled with pleasant chatter, the background murmur of a new year’s programme on tv, and the comforting tinkle of metal against porcelain. Byulyi plants Aera in her lap to feed her from the jar of baby food they brought from home (“You eat first, Yong, I’m not hungry yet.”), so Yongsun keeps an eye on Haneul beside her to make sure he doesn’t spill any hot soup over himself. 

Yongsun also watches, from across the room, and with a small amount of envy she can’t bring herself to rise above, Byulyi’s mother talking to Sungjae, Seulgi’s boyfriend. Seulgi and Sungjae only started dating two years ago, but already Byulyi’s mother speaks to him with a fond familiarity it took Yongsun over five years to earn. She’s heard from Byulyi how her mother-in-law sometimes even cooks and delivers lunch to him at his workplace, doting on him as she would her own son. It definitely helps that Sungjae lives in Bucheon, while Yongsun and Byulyi are based in Seoul—but still. The first time Byulyi’s mother made tteokbokki for her was _after_ the wedding. 

Not that it’s a _competition_ , of course, but sometimes Yongsun can’t help the persistent feeling that she’s fighting a losing battle. Her mother-in-law is a tough, plain-spoken woman in general, but Yongsun has a niggling feeling that she’s always been held to a higher standard than everyone else, which explains why she’s always falling short. It’s not fair. 

“Yong? Everything okay?” Byulyi’s quiet voice shakes her from her brooding contemplation. She turns to see her wife gazing at her in concern. “I lost you there for a bit.”

Yongsun blinks and shakes herself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Were you saying something?” 

Byulyi looks at her consideringly for a moment, before evidently deciding to let it go. “Can you watch Aera for a bit? I want to wash this.” 

“Sure.” 

Byulyi hands Aera over and drops a brief, comforting kiss on Yongsun’s cheek before getting up to go to the kitchen. 

Yongsun soon finds herself caught in the middle of a heated discussion between Byulyi’s second aunt and Byulyi’s third uncle’s wife about the merits of using glass containers instead of _onggi_ to prepare kimchi, and seizes the opportunity to hastily excuse herself when she catches sight of Yongki hiding behind the sofa and chewing on someone’s brown leather loafer. 

Seulgi and Byulyi’s cousin Naeun beckon excitedly to her when they catch sight of her walking past, and she’s more than happy to join in their gossip session. In the meanwhile, Haneul plays quietly by a side with the dogs and his stuffed elephant, and Naeun’s seven year old twins take a wide-eyed Aera under their wing in their game of make believe. 

After lunch, everyone breaks up into two teams for a long, exhilarating game of yutnori. Halfway through the game, Yongsun is summoned by Byulyi’s mother to produce the requested rice syrup. She offers her help with preparations, and soon finds herself grating ginger into a saucepan while her mother-in-law deep-fries dough pieces beside her. They work quietly and steadily amid the exuberant cheers and cries coming from outside the kitchen. 

Yongsun has brought the rice syrup, honey and ginger to a simmer, and is focusing on preventing it from bubbling too vigorously, when her mother-in-law speaks. 

“How’s everything at home, Yongsun? It must be tiring, having two little ones to take care of while the both of you are still working full-time.” The note of genuine concern and sympathy in her voice is surprising, and Yongsun scrambles to reply. 

“Oh, it’s alright, Byulyi and I manage. And my mum helps on the weekdays, of course.” 

“That’s good of her. I had to take care of my girls alone, though of course I didn’t have a job to worry about, and it helped that Byulyi had started kindergarten by the time Seulgi came along. Haneul’s starting school next month, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Though I suspect Byulyi wishes we could put it off for another year, she’s so attached to him.”

“Oh, Byulyi spoils the boy.” 

“That’s what I keep telling her! Though, I do understand why she’s so protective. Haneul’s so shy and so sweet, sometimes I worry about him too.” 

“Well, you can’t coddle a child too much or he’ll never grow up. Byulyi knew how to take the public bus home by herself before she started elementary school—how else do you think she grew up so well? Look, the syrup’s thickened enough already, you can turn the fire off now. Byulyi should learn from you; you do a good job of raising your children.” 

Yongsun finds herself taken aback by the unexpected compliment. “Thank you, eomeonim. But Byulyi’s an amazing mum, she—”

“Ah, of course she is, I just meant that...it’s difficult to find a good balance sometimes. Between loving and coddling.”

“That’s true.” 

“But from what I’ve seen, you manage to strike a good balance.” 

“...Thank you, eomeonim.” 

“If I’m being honest, Yongsun, I feel like I should be the one thanking you.” 

“Eomeonim, what do you—” 

“Yongsun-ah—as a mother, you always want what’s best for your children. I’m sure you understand, now that you have two of your own.

“I do,” Yongsun replies after a brief pause, bewildered as to where this is going. 

“Not just what’s best—you want life to be _kind_ to them. To be easier on them than it was for yourself. And I’m sure every mother’s dream is to see their daughter grow up and marry a nice man who loves her and treats her well.” 

_Oh,_ Yongsun thinks. 

“What I’m trying to say is...I’m a traditional woman. I can’t help that I was brought up that way, and I won’t apologise for it. There are many things I cannot understand and maybe never will. Byulyi’s father is the one more open to all these new-fangled ideas...but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, watching Byulyi, my eldest girl, grow up—I worried. Oh, she thought she was being so secretive, but I could always tell. Both your father-in-law and I could tell. That she wasn’t interested in boys the way most girls are. So, in a way, I had a long time to prepare myself for the day she brought you home to meet us for the first time. But even then, it was difficult for me. Because more than my...my _personal_ wish to have a son-in-law, I also knew that life would be harder for her this way. You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

“I understand.” 

“And I see now that it was unfair, all these years, to put that on you. But back then, there were times when all I could think about when I saw you with her was how much easier Byulyi’s life would be if she had chosen to settle down with some nice boy instead.” 

Her mother-in-law’s voice has gone a little thick, and Yongsun finds herself staring hard at the steaming pan of syrup in front of her. 

“But now I realise I was wrong. Because I see how happy you make my daughter. How happy you’ve always made her, right from the start. I think I’ve always recognised that, on some level. I was always harder on you than was necessary, but I’m very grateful to you for taking care of my Byulyi all these years. She’s very lucky to have you.” 

_Oh,_ Yongsun thinks again, except this time the thought is imbued with wonder, and pride, and not least of all, _relief_. 

She feels like...she’s been holding her breath for years, and only now can she finally exhale. Her voice wavers when she finally gathers her wits sufficiently to reply. 

“I’m lucky too, eomeonim. Byulyi is—she—she’s everything to me,” she says in a rush, suddenly feeling as if she might cry. “She takes such good care of me and Haneul and Aera, and—”

“Oh, that goes without saying, I’ve never seen anyone dote on their wife more than my daughter dotes on you. But that’s not what we’re talking about now, are we?” 

“I—no, it’s not.” 

“You’re a good girl, Yongsun. I’m very glad to have you as my daughter-in-law. And I’m sorry for not saying this to you earlier. I should have. I wish I had.”

“Please don’t apologise, eomeonim, you don’t—”

“No, I feel like I must. And I hope you know that you are always very welcome and very loved in our family.”

“I do, eomeonim. Thank you...for telling me this.” 

“You’re welcome, dear.” Then, with a clearing of her throat and a brisk change in tone so sudden that Yongsun feels like she’s got whiplash, she continues, “Help me transfer the _yakgwa_ pieces into the syrup; they need to soak for about half an hour. I’ll prepare the chopped pine nuts for garnishing now.” 

“Got it.” 

When Yongsun finally exits the kitchen bearing a plate piled high with ginger honey pastries, the game of yutnori is over, and she spots Byulyi sitting by the sofa surrounded by Haneul, Aera, Naeun’s twins, and the five dogs, gesticulating animatedly to the happy shrieks and giggles of the children while Seulgi and Sungjae look on fondly. 

Byulyi’s smile widens when she catches her eye, beckoning for her to join them—and of course, without question, Yongsun goes. 

_3\. the kids (two days later)_

Yongsun stirs awake to a heavy weight against her back and a peck on the cheek. 

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” 

She groans and rolls over to snuggle into the warm body beside her. “How long did I nap for? What time is it?” she mumbles without opening her eyes. 

“Almost seven. The kids are on their way.”

“What do you mean, the kids are already here.”

“The _other_ kids, silly.” There’s a smile in Byulyi’s voice. 

“Ah, right. Are the kids awake? As in, our actual babies.” 

“Yep. They’re watching Pororo on TV now.” 

The doorbell rings. 

“That must be them!” 

The time finally registers and Yongsun pushes herself up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “You should have woken me up earlier.” 

“I didn’t want to disturb sleeping beauty here,” Byulyi explains, giving her cheek a light pat, before disappearing from the room. 

There’s the sound of the front door opening—and then a chorus of excited squeals and new year’s greetings, and Byulyi shouting, “Haneul, Aera, come say hi to auntie Wheein and auntie Hyejin!” 

“Ahhh, they’ve both grown so much! They’re so adorable!”

“Oh my goodness, look at you, Haneul! You’re a big boy now! Do you remember auntie Whee—oh no, what’s the matter—”

“Don’t worry, he’s just shy—it’s okay Haneul, remember auntie Wheein? She went with us to the beach last year, remember? Hyejin-ah, you can pick her up, she likes being carried.”

“Aigoo, you’re so much heavier how, Aera darling—aw, are these little rabbits on your romper? Do you like rabbits, sweetie?” 

“Ah! I can’t handle this, look how tiny her little fingers are, Hyejin! And her little feet!” 

“Haneul, no hiding behind mama’s leg, remember, be a brave boy and say hello to auntie Wheein.” 

“Hello, Haneul! Can you give me a little wave?” 

“Come on, wave at auntie Wheein, like this—good boy! And wave hello to auntie Hyejin too—good job, darling.” 

“Wah, unnie, he wasn’t this shy the last time we saw him, was he?” 

“He _has_ gotten a little self-conscious over the past few months…and we’re not sure why, to be honest. But we’re hoping it’ll pass when he starts kindergarten.” 

“Hyejin-ah, let me carry her—aigoo, you’re a happy little girl, aren’t you! Wah, unnie, look at that huge smile! And her dimples!” 

“Aera’s always excited to meet new people—yes, Haneul dear? What is it?” 

“Where’s Yongsun-unnie, by the way?” 

“She’s home, isn’t she?” 

“I’m here, I’m here,” Yongsun laughs, emerging from the bedroom to the sight of Aera giggling happily in Wheein’s arms and Hyejin squatting down cooing to Haneul, who’s clinging nervously onto Byulyi’s leg. “What a racket!”

Haneul extricates himself from Byulyi the moment he sees her, and runs over to her with a loud “mama!” 

“Yes, dear,” she says, picking him up from under the armpits and settling him on her hip. 

“Unnie, you look like you just woke up.” 

“That’s because she did.” 

“Good morning, Yongsun-unnie!”

“Aish,” Yongsun grumbles, but moves to hug them both. “How did you guys get here?” 

“Hyejin came from home; I was at the gallery. Hyuk-woo drove over to pick me up and dropped us off.” 

“Wah, unnie, I still can’t believe you’re mums now.” 

“Hyejin-ah…it’s been more than three years.” 

“Still can’t believe it,” Hyejin hums dreamily. 

The doorbell rings again. 

“Yong, that must be your mum here for the kids—hello eomeonim!” 

“Happy new year, Byulyi dear—ah, what am I saying, I’ve seen you twice already—your father-in-law’s still trying to park the car—oh my, is that Hyejin? And Wheein?” 

“Hello eomeonim! We’re a a day late, but, happy new year!” 

“Happy new year, eomeonim! It’s been so long!” 

“Happy new year, girls—the two of you still look the same! How have you been?” 

“Let’s not stand in the doorway, everyone, come on in.” 

Yongsun greets her mother with a hug and hands Haneul over to his grandma before going into the kitchen to heat up the tteok manduguk and haemul pajeon she prepared earlier that day. Byulyi comes in to help her plate the kimchi and japchae and set the table, and they work in comfortable silence while Wheein, Hyejin and Yongsun’s mother catch up in the living room. 

Yongsun’s mother eventually departs with the children and a reminder to call her when Byulyi’s ready to pick the kids up, and then it’s just the four of them left in the apartment, the way it used to be back in the day when they were on the cusp of their twenties and surviving on ramyeon and coffee (coke in Byulyi’s case, and tea in Yongsun’s) in an almost _too_ on-the-nose embodiment of the broke college student life. 

Thankfully, their current residence is no longer a grimy rooftop apartment with temperamental heating and a cockroach infestation. They’ve also fortunately lived to tell of their sodium-laden ramyeon-diet days. 

Byulyi appears at the kitchen door, holding a bottle of wine in each hand, while the other three sit themselves down at the dining table. “Wheein, Hyejin—red or white?” 

“White for me, please,” Wheein replies, with a knowing smirk. 

“White for Wheenie it is.” Byulyi disappears back into the kitchen. “And Jini?” 

“Um, I’ll pass today, thanks.” 

Byulyi’s head pops back into the door frame almost immediately. “You’ll _what_?” 

Yongsun gasps, clapping her hands over her mouth when she makes the connection. “Hyejin-ah...?” 

Hyejin’s cheeks have turned pink. “I—well—yes. Surprise?” 

Wheein groans loudly. “Hyejin, honestly! What kind of a reveal is that? You have to tell them properly!” 

“Oh my god, Hyejin! Is this for real?”

“Shut up! How long has it been?” 

“Stand up, let me see!” 

“Ah, unnie, it’s way too early to tell,” Hyejin grumbles, but she stands up anyway and angles her body to the side. “See? Nothing. I’m only two months along.” 

“Oh my _god_.” 

Byulyi, at least, has the presence of mind to congratulate her. “That’s amazing, Hyejin-ah, I’m so excited for you!” 

“Congratulations,” Yongsun supplements vaguely, still reeling from the revelation, even though she knows that Hyejin and Hyuk-woo have been trying for a kid for over a year now. 

“So who else knows?” 

“Just my family, and you guys. Oh, and Hyuk-woo knows too.”

“Aw, so we’re part of the inner circle!” Byulyi cheers, at the same time that Wheein goes, “What are you even saying, of course your own husband knows…” 

“He might not! I may not have told him, you never know!” 

“Hyejin-ah, I would be very concerned if you were keeping your pregnancy a secret from your husband.” 

“Don’t be so surprised, I could have my reasons,” Hyejin says mysteriously. 

“Please, as if you could keep anything a secret from Hyuk-woo in the first place. That man can read you like an open book.” 

“Aish, that’s not true.” 

“It is!” 

“Is not!” 

“Stop fighting, girls,” Byulyi cuts in lazily. 

Wheein’s attention is suddenly distracted. “Yongsun-unnie, are you crying?!”

Yongsun blinks rapidly, flustered at having been caught. “No I’m not! I’m just—really touched by Hyejin’s news, that’s all.” 

“Your eyes are turning red,” Hyejin says in a hushed voice. “Unnie, please don’t cry over me!” 

“I’m not crying, I swear!” 

“Wah... Is she always such a crybaby these days?” Wheein directs the question to Byulyi with fascination. 

“Yah, Wheein!” Yongsun scolds, but it doesn’t quite have the intended impact when her words are followed by a loud sniffle. 

“Only sometimes,” Byulyi answers loyally, handing her a tissue to dry her eyes. 

Wheein and Hyejin both burst into snickers. 

“What’s so funny?” Byulyi demands, eyeing them with suspicion. 

“We were just saying in the car that it’s a shame, how you don’t make fun of Yongsun-unnie anymore,” Hyejin explains. “Remember the good old loser crew days?” 

“Yeah, you’re like… Mrs. Supportive Wife now, it’s no fun,” Wheein complains jokingly. 

Somehow that makes Yongsun tear up afresh, prompting Byulyi to wrap her arms around her with an amused but fond “aigoo, unnie”, after which even the younger girls relent. 

When she’s got her emotions sufficiently under control, she finally says, “I’m so happy for you, Hyejin. I can’t believe you’re going to be a mum. You’re gonna be amazing, really. I just know it.”

“Aw, unnie…” Hyejin’s lower lip quivers, then she’s slipping out of her chair and under the table to get to Yongsun to envelop her in a huge, forceful hug, and soon they’re both crying into each other’s shoulders. 

“What’s happening?” she hears Wheein ask in bewilderment. 

“Just go with it,” is Byulyi’s sage advice. 

After dinner—“Unnie, the haemul pajeon tastes incredible, you’ve outdone yourself”—the four of them gather in the living room, Yongsun and Byulyi (and Yongki, who doesn’t want to be left out) smooshed together on the sofa and Wheein and Hyejin sprawled on the rug by the coffee table. Just like they used to. 

Hyejin shares about morning sickness and cravings and how she revealed her pregnancy to her parents, Yongsun and Byulyi talk about the kids as usual, and the three of them persuade Wheein to spill about the guy she’s currently dating until she unexpectedly starts to tear up (“Sunghwan is wonderful, he really is, but sometimes I just...find myself missing Nayeon. A lot.”), upon which they hastily put an end to their egging and rush to comfort the baby of their group. 

Throughout the night, Yongsun is constantly inundated by little bursts of nostalgia, which she works through by idly playing with Byulyi’s hand resting in her lap—the contact helps her to stay grounded and not slip into wistful melancholy. 

It feels far too soon when the clock hits 11 and they have to reluctantly bid their guests goodbye. They urge Hyejin to keep them updated, encourage Wheein once more to have a talk with her ex-girlfriend if only for closure’s sake, and then they both set off in Byulyi’s car to pick up the kids. 

It’s past midnight by the time they return home to tuck the already-sleeping children in, and close to 1am when they finally slip into bed. 

“Today was nice,” Byulyi murmurs, coaxing Yongsun closer so that her back is pressed up against Byulyi’s warm, pyjama-clad front. 

Yongsun tugs Byulyi’s arm over her waist so that she can rest her hand over Byulyi’s. “It was; it felt like the old days again. God, I still can’t believe Hyejin’s having a baby.” 

Byulyi hums in assent. “It feels like just yesterday that we attended her wedding. 

“She’s really all grown up now.” Yongsun heaves a heavy sigh, briefly overcome by sentimentality. 

“I hope Wheein figures things out with Nayeon.”

“Me too. I didn’t expect her to cry just now, I got such a shock when she did.” 

“I guess Nayeon must have meant more to her than we all thought.” 

“I did think they were good together.” 

“Sunghwan seems like a really decent guy, though.” 

“What’s the point of being decent if Wheein doesn’t love him?” 

“True, true. We’ll just have to wait and see.” Byulyi yawns loudly. “Gosh, I’m knackered. We should sleep soon, we have breakfast with Yonghee-unnie tomorrow, remember.” 

“Mm. Goodnight, Byul.”

“Goodnight, Yong.” 

But the memory of new year’s day in Bucheon is still on Yongsun’s mind, and she lies wide awake for several minutes reliving the episode in her head, and wondering why she feels simultaneously eager yet hesitant to share it with Byulyi. 

“Your mother thanked me, the other day,” she eventually says quietly, when she thinks Byulyi might have fallen asleep. 

No such luck. There’s a rustle of sheets as Byulyi shifts behind her, adjusting her arm so that her hand rests more comfortably over Yongsun’s stomach. “Thanked you? Whatever for?” Her voice is low and husky with sleep. 

“She said...she thanked me for being a good mum.” 

“Oh. Wow.” Byulyi’s voice is clearer now, and holds an attentive edge that means she’s listening. 

“And she thanked me for making you happy.” 

“You _do_ make me happy.” 

“I know,” she replies, but hearing the words come from Byulyi’s mouth makes warmth bloom in her chest all the same. 

Byulyi chuckles. “Why all of a sudden, though?” 

“No idea. We were making _yakgwa_ , and she suddenly just...came out with it.” 

“Gosh.” 

“I know, right?”

“How did you react?” 

“I pretty much just thanked her back? I was really surprised.”

“I would have been, too. So—how do you feel about it?” 

“Happy, I suppose. And relieved.” She hesitates. “It’s nice to know that she sees me as part of the family.” 

There’s a note of hurt in Byulyi’s reply. “Of course she does. I could have told you that myself. I _have_ told you that.”

“I know,” Yongsun appeases, resting her hand over Byulyi’s and threading their fingers together, “but it’s not the same as hearing it directly from her.” 

“I suppose that’s true,” Byulyi concedes. 

“Anyway.” Yongsun wriggles around so that she’s facing her wife, whose eyes are gleaming faintly in the darkness of the room. “You make me really happy, too. Just in case you didn’t know.” 

“Oh, I know.” Yongsun doesn’t need to be able to see her expression to know that there’s a smirk on Byulyi’s face. 

“Good,” she whispers, and leans forward for a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to you if you finished this, honestly, because by the time I hit 3000 words I kind of had no idea what I was writing anymore lol. Posting this was a very “I know this is incredibly sloppy but I also know I will never go back to properly edit it and I did not write 5k words for nothing” kind of situation... 
> 
> ANYWAY. Extremely belated, but to all those who celebrate(d): 祝你们身体健康，新年快乐！Happy 初六 y’all


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